[Breautiful]

Welcome to 'Valton: The New Hold', RP Thread #5


Previous RP Threads:
http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1335789-valton-the-new-hold-rp-thread/page__fromsearch__1
http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1338764-valton-the-new-hold-rp-thread-2/
http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1356024-valton-the-new-hold-rp-thread-3/
http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1360105-valton-the-new-hold-rp-thread-4/

An ambitious project began in the Rift several months ago: a new settlement sprung up alongside a river, between Ivarstead and Riften. Enough land was purchased for the new settlement, Valton, to be recognized as a new, separate hold, and the man who had purchased the land, Radwulf Spurvhauke, was given the title of Jarl. Valton is still growing, with the castle, Gudslott Keep, being erected first, and then several smaller buildings were built around it, though most of them are currently empty. In an attempt to attract as many citizens as possible to the new hold, Jarl Spurvhauke has set an extremely low price on these homes: a mere 1,000 golden septims, and settlers have been coming in from all over in a hope of a better life or a chance at making some coin, and as a new settlement, there is plenty of opportunity to do so.


Current events:
Daedric princes have their eyes on the town of Valton. Julius the mason is building fortifications at the Shimmermist Mine.
The bandits have been cleared out of the cave near Valton and three of the captured bandits are in the Valton jail waiting for the inevitable...
The court-mage Fiona has gone missing, Leandra has been ordered by the Jarl to find her and for some reason the argonian fisherman Jormaw wanted to help Leandra.
Valton has a new priest, Itan-Ru, as well as a chapel.
Jacqueline and Alguidar don't like Jormaw, due to his behaviour earlier. However, their friend Roymund trusts the argonian and will seek a cure of his Rockjoint from him or the priest.
The old innkeeper got sick from too much mead and has been sent away. The new innkeeper, Skarpi, is an old sailor and runs Hela's Foly (the inn) now.
The blacksmith is trying to create a black leather and chaurus chitin armor from what they managed to carry out of the Shimmermist mine.
Roland is in Nuramon's house, being healed. Theseus is at the chapel, being healed.
An extremely old and odd dunmer, Varyn, has arrived to Valton. He is not happy about the lack of refined morrowindic drinks...
Danus Maximus continues his attempts to convince Jarl Radwulf to side with the empire, or at least let the empire within Valtons borders. He has turned to Titus, but what is he planning?


Head over to the http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1368225-valton-the-new-hold-ooc-sign-up-thread-xiii/ for further information and questions.

[Kahli St Dennis]

Alguidar, Outside Hela's Foly, Late Afternoon

Jacqueline's observation about the prisoners being brought in, didn't get a reaction from Alguidar.

His eyes fixated in the barracks, his mind drifting back to Aguaar, his heart rate increasing, his breath more and more audible. That had to be the search party and the prisoners had to be the murderers of his friend. The feeling of relief from his farm's safety was immediately squashed by the desire for revenge. After several seconds of silence, words came out of Alguidar's mouth in a disjointed, slow and almost inaudible speech.

"Who'd do that? And why? They have to pay. I'll make sure of it."

He stopped talking as he remembered he was not alone. He didn't intend that to be heard. Dark thoughts flooded his mind but he didn't want the young Breton to know. He quickly stood up, he picked up his crate and the tin with milk. Trying to quickly take her mind off his reaction, he cleared his throat and changed the subject.

"I have business with the blacksmith. Are you coming?"

[Soph]

Roymund Inventius, Valton Streets. Evening

Roymund stepped away from the Inn with a shake of his head, keeping ahold of his injured arm as he travelled. The injury was becoming progressively worse, his elbow had began to almost completely seize up. "Guess thats why they call it RockJoint" he thought. He'd not yet seen the full splender of Valton, and believed now was as good a time as any. He might even bump into the fisherman, though he didnt seem to be out and about. Few people did for that matter, he could only seen a couple guards at the far side of streets and one who was passsing him.

"My cousins off fighting bandits and i'm stuck here showing people to the priest.." grumbled the guard, offering Roymund a scowl as he passed. Aswell as the scowl, this gave Roymund an idea. "Priest, Eh?" he thought "Perhaps he can offer some aid to my arm."

Walking in the direction the guard came from, Roymund kept an eye eout for something representing a chapel. He wasnt aware of one when he first arrived in Valton, so it's likely only a small one or maybe even just the priests home.
Eventually he came to a building giving off an odd illumination, with a peep through the window he noticed a two men inside. One was sitting down, the other appaered to be an Argonian. The odd glow was coming from the ceiling of the building, Roymund couldnt tell what it was but it came across as something of magic.

With a shrug, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. "I'm looking for the priest" he said, his voice gave off a weary/weakened tone.

(( Not my most favoured post, but Roymund's fed up of being injured! ))

[Hayley O'Gara]

Danus Maximus. Helas Folly. Late noon

As the merc sat down and waited for his assignment Danus then briefed him on what to do.

"Your first assignment is simple. I suspect that there is a citizen in Valton who may or may not be sympathetic to the Stormcloaks. Problem is I don't know where he lives and who is name is. All I know is that his friend was the one that died in the bandit raid east of here. The friend name is Aguaar. So it is simple. Find out his name, where he lives, and find out if he's a stormcloak supporter in amy means that is legal as long as you keep your profile low. The reward will be 500 drakes. Meet me here when you're done. Oh I forgot to say this; bring me proof if he is a rebel supporter. Any questions?"

[I love YOu]

Titus Aetius, Hela's foly, Late afternoon

Titus nodded his head and said, "I have a few. Was this Aguaar a Stormcloak sympathiser? If so, the obvious place to look would be any letters or documents he might have recieved from his friend. Secondly, does he have any family? They might know something. And finally, any ideas where I should start? You've been here longer than I have."
Titus waited for Danus to reply. He hadn't expected to be asked to dig up dirt on a citizen of valton, but seeing as Danus was being very secretive about this, this cloak and dagger stuff wasn't too big of a surprise.

[Jason White]

Danus Maximus. Helas Folly. Late noon

Danus Nodded and replied to his questions.

"I do not know if Aguaar is a stormcloak supporter. All I know is that when the guards found him, he was nothing but a mutilated corpse. Thank Akatosh they found them before it got worse. Again I do not know if the rebel has family. If he does then I suspect that they would be in stormcloak territory; most likely in the Rift or Eastmarsh. Now the last time I saw the rebel collaborator was outside the inn selling goods to people with a Breton woman helping him. You should check around this part of town. Also if there is any documents They should be in his house obviously."

[FLYBOYLEAK]

Titus Aetius, Hela's Foly, Late Afternoon

"I'll need directions. Like I said, I'm relatively new here, and I don't know the way to specific houses."
Titus looked around at the other patrons of the inn. They hadn't seemed to have listened in on their conversation. Titus hoped they would meet in a more secure locale in the future.

[A Lo RIkIton'ton]

Julius Scipion, Valton, Late afternoon

Julius’s horse trotted over the bridge and back into the hold Julius busy in thought on how to build different things for shimmermist mine, he tied his horse up before deciding to walk to Helas folly to relax after a hard day’s work.

Inside the mood was cheery Julius ordered a mead waiting patiently before paying the barman he looked back it was a new barman, Julius shrugged before navigating his way through the locals to a vacant table over in the corner. he sighed before drinking deeply from his mead he noticed some of the locals gave him xenophobic looks Julius sighed before finishing his mug and ordered another mead.

[Sasha Brown]

Danus Maximus. Helas Folly, Late noon.

Danus nodded and said.

"Well the hold is small enough to not need directions but if you want it here you go. You will find most of the houses around the northern part of town. This person might just be in one of those. If he's not here check the inn, Also there is a farm south of here and he does dress up like a farmer, so he could be there. Again if you see a Breton woman and a Nord male selling goods, it might be the Nord."

[Danny Blight]

Titus Aetius, Hela's Foly, Late Afternoon

Titus nodded and said, "I'll meet you back here then when I have more information. I shouldn't be too long. Find a Nord male and a Breton Woman selling goods, and find some proof in his house. Easy."
He stood up, and walked out of the inn. As he exited the inn, he noticed a Nord and a Breton standing outside. The Nord was holding a crate of what seemed to be milk. Titus couldn't believe his luck, he had found the rebel already. A Nord man and a Breton woman with some goods, just like Danus had told him. Now he needed to know the rebel's name, and where he lived. He walked over to the pair, and asked the Nord, "Hello, sorry to interrupt, but I'm looking for work, and apparently you two work at the Farm. I'm Titus Aetius, I've just arrived here from Falkreath."
Hopefully the two wouldn't take much notice of the fact he was wearing iron armour, which wasn't the typical farmers clothes, but he could think of an explanation for that.

[Jack Moves]

Jacqueline

She gave Alguidar a concerned look. She didn't blame him for wanting revenge for his friend, but she hoped that he would not get himself into trouble. She got up from her place on the stairs and brushed some dirt off of her pants. She decided to go along with his unsubtle attempt at changing the subject.

"Yeah, guess I'll join ya. I was thinkin-" she didn't get to finish her sentence because a man in iron armour had approached them and asked about work. He didn't really look like the kind of guy that would want to do farmwork, so Jacqueline had a strange feeling about him.

"Ain't got no clue," she answered him. "Yer dressed like a fighter, so maybe ya could see if they're needin' any more guards."

[Nick Pryce]

Alguidar, Outside Hela's Foly, Late Afternoon

Jacqueline stood up, but before they could cross the road to get to the blacksmith, an Imperial interrupted them. He was asking for work. Jacqueline suggested guard duty due to his gear. Alguidar recognized him, he had just entered the inn before Alguidar left. In fact, he was the main reason he left the inn in the first place. He was the one that sat with the other Imperial, the one that walks around with three bodyguards and with obvious ties to the Empire.

Even though the Imperial sounded sincere, his gear made this an odd question and his affiliations made this a suspicious encounter. Alguidar wasn't looking forward to spending any more time with him than necessary.

"Yes, the barracks are just over there." Said Alguidar pointing up the road. He gave another look at the Imperial, amused as he pictured him with his hands on the dirt. "The farm isn't work for you, Imperial. Nothing living ever rose from this land by using swords." Said Alguidar with a chuckle, but before he cut the conversation short, the business man in him spoke higher. "Oh, can I interest you in a fine apple, by any chance? Special price today, two gold!"

[GPMG]

Itan-Ru, Chapel, Late Afternoon

It seemed that the redguard had been about to make a reply to what Itan-Ru had said, when suddenly the door opened and a weak voice called out, seeking a priest. The Argonian, having finished examining Theseus and reapplying his bandages, immediately stood to face the man who had called out. He gave the Imperial a quick once-over, noting the position and apparent pain his arm was in. He walked towards the man saying, "That would be me. My name is Itan-Ru; Priest of Mara, Healer, and when I have the time, alchemist. Forgive me for saying, but you don't seem to be in the best of health, friend," looking pointedly at Roylund's arm.

"What happened? This is..." He took a closer look at the wound, and the manner in which his arm had contorted, "Rockjoint? And it seems to have progressed rather far along. How long ago were you infected?" He turned to grab his bag and began rooting through the pocket that contained his alchemical supplies and potions to get what he needed and the man made his reply.

[Trey Johnson]

Titus Aetius, Outside Hela's Foly, Evening

"Thanks you for the suggestion, I have considered it, but I've only just arrived here, and seeing how calm things are here, I'd probably get restless. I'm a mercernary you see. I came here from Cyrodiil, because I heard there had been a new Hold set up, and I thought they might need some help with bandits or something. But it seems the guards and other mercenaries are taking care of that. So I'll be moving on soon, maybe to Solitude. I might see if the Empire needs some mercenaries. If I'm lucky I might kill a few stormcloaks. Those traitors have been nothing but trouble, in my opinion."
The last part about moving on was a lie, of course. He just wanted to see if he could provoke the man into revealing anything but insulting the stormcloaks. He would've added in a jab at Talos, but Nords were especially sensitive about him, and Titus was a worshipper himself. That still didn't mean he agreed with the Stormcloaks. Titus waited to see what the two would say. He didn't expect the man to blurt out his love for Ulfric Stormcloak, but he expected some sort of emotion. If he was smart enough to act indifferent or even agree with him, then Titus would relish the fact the man was having to swallow his pride and listen to Titus insult Ulfric. He wondered if he should continue, just to see if the man had a breaking point, but he waited to see the Nord's reaction first.

[Farrah Lee]

Roymund Inventius, Valton Chapel. Late Afternoon.

"I'm unsure, But i suspect a couple days now. I'm a huntsman see, and i took an injury last time i was in the field. I met one of your kinsmen who managed to identify the problem." Roymund loosened his sleeve, allowing the Priest a better look at the arm. "Been effecting my work, so it has. Do you have a cure?"

He watched the priest dash about for his supplies and such like, something Roymund had frankly never understood, and settled his eye on the redguard sitting along the isle. He looked to be in a similiar situation to Roymund, seems the priest would have had a busy evening. "Long way from Hammerfell" he thought "Likely another mercenary, like the rest of his kin."

His vision turned back to the Itan-Ru, watching as he dallied about with his supplies.

[Paula Ramos]

Alguidar, Outside Hela's Foly, Late Afternoon

Alguidar extended his hand, holding an apple, as the Imperial started to talk about his intentions in Skyrim. It didn't took long before the usual greed and ignorance of a mercenary emerged in his speech. Alguidar wasn't one to measure carefully the weight of each word, as soon as the Imperial stopped talking, the farmer fired out a reply.

"Those traitors, you say? Those traitors you speak of are the sons of Skyrim! Oppressed! Killed! Their culture stolen! And you, outsider... You come to our land seeking coin by spilling our blood over our soil?" Visibly agitated, Alguidar retracted his hand and dropped the apple back in his crate. In times like these, he missed his old home. Back at Windhelm, he was always surrounded by like-minded people. Here, he'd be hard-pressed to even find a Nord.

"There's plenty of blood to be spilled in your home, Imperial! I suggest you turn back. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's getting late and I have things to do. Oh, and no apples for you!" Said Alguidar before turning his back.

[Rude_Bitch_420]

Titus Aetius, Outside Hela's Foly, Late Afternoon

Titus managed to stop himself from smiling as the Nord angrily replied to his insult. The idiot had taken his bait, and had announced his support for the Stormcloaks in all but name. Titus decided to press on, and to get him to say more.
"Their culture stolen? Nords existed before Tiber Septim, you know. Face it, the Stormcloaks are a group of short-sighted arrogant fools, following a power-hungry meglomaniac who's using the White-Gold concordat to further his own interests. He's only harming the Empire and giving the Thalmor the advantage, but who cares as long as he gets to be High King?"
The Nord had turned away, having made a remark about spilling blood.
"So it's wrong for me to spill the blood of criminals and traitors for gold, but its alright for you to spill the blood of your fellow sons and daughters of Skyrim for a Tyrant's ambitions? Maybe you're right, maybe I am an oppurtunist, taking advantage of civil strife, but at least I'm not like the group of misguided bigots who call themselves the Sons of Skyrim."
Titus knew this would make the Nord even angrier, and braced himself, in case the man turned around and punched him. He didn't know if the Stormcloaks were truly bigots, but he had heard the rumours from his Father, who had been stationed in Skyrim for a while, about how Windhelm treated other races.

[mimi_lys]

Julius Scipion, Valton, Late Afternoon

Julius shivered as he stepped into the open air and walked away from Helas folly, he had learned from a friendlier local where the man who had found this morning had been taken, he strolled through the streets the lazy afternoon slowly changing to another lazy evening he walked to his own house instead of visiting the man.

He unlocked his beaten door entered wiping his feet, locking the door behind him, then after taking off his shoes he walked around his now re-cleaned kitchen, he prepared himself a meal then sat down to eat it.

He pushed away the dish, wiped his mouth then let out a satisfactory burp, then washed his dishes before putting his boots on again and exiting the house, locked the door behind him before strolling to the bridge, where he stood, leaning over to look at his reflection in the ever moving river all the while whistling http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ymo1GOH8REI he had made up.

[Alexandra Louise Taylor]

Alguidar, Outside Hela's Foly, Late Afternoon

Alguidar walked one step away from the inn when the Imperial fired off another batch of anti-stormcloak speech. Alguidar intended to ignore it to tend to his duties but the carefully chosen words of the Imperial kept bouncing around in his head. He was unable to contain himself. He turned around and, spilling some milk from the tin he was carrying, he let out a violent outburst that could be heard in the surrounding buildings.

"How dare you come to this land and talk about these people as if they were dogs! You know nothing about us, yet, you wish to rule over us? Your weakness and greed will be your downfall, Imperial! Ulfric Stormcloak is the true High King and you should do well to respect him, you fool! His armies will..."

Suddenly it hit him. Why was this man standing there, arguing over the rebellion out of nowhere, right after meeting with the one from the Legion? This man wasn't looking for a job, he had an agenda. Coming from Windhelm, Alguidar wasn't used to hiding his feelings. He wasn't in Imperial territory but he also couldn't rely on the Stormcloak armies to protect him.

Confused, still unaware of the Imperial's true intentions but convinced of his insincerity, he changed his tone.

"Anyway, you go look for a job now, it's getting late. I wasted enough time with you already."

[Shelby McDonald]

Gorbad Yak-Bogadbu, his forge, late afternoon.

Gorbad was quite satisfied with the chitin armor. The chest-plate was solid but light, the boots sturdy and thick enough to be used in snowy mountains, and the leg-armor fit seamlessly together with the style of the chest and the look of the boots. Most of what could be seen from the outside was the chitin, however, in truth it was merely a third of chitin. With the black-colored leather underneath, it was hard to see where the chitin ended and the leather began. Gorbad had used the leather both in order to make the armor more comfortable to wear, but also because he simply didn't have more chitin to use. The gauntlets would have to be made from pure leather, since he was now completely out of chitin. He was nevertheless proud of his creation. Anyone who wanted to be well protected against the weather and unfriendly swords would welcome this armor with open arms, but the armor also had character. It looked dangerous, surely a property many potential customers would appreciate.

He gave the armor one last admiring look before he locked it inside his house. It was already getting late, so he doubted anyone was looking for an armor to buy. Just as he was about to begin cleaning up at his forge, he heard raised voices just across the street. His old eyes tried to see who was shouting so loudly and stopped when he saw the shape of a fully armored imperial talking to that farmer lad and the breton lass Gorbad had seen earlier. The one shouting was the farmer, milk spilling from the tin he was carrying. They weren't even a rock-throw away, so Gorbad could see the anger in the farmers face. Whatever the imperial had said had made him very upset.

For a moment Gorbad thought about going there and interrupting whatever was going on there, but he hesitated. What would he even say? What would he actually do? What could he actually do? It wasn't even any of his business. No, he had nothing to do with it, nor anything he could do about it. Whatever it even was. Instead, he took a few steps closer, without going out of area from his forge, so he could hear the rest of the conversation. He did his best to look uninterested and unaware of the heated word-battle at the other side of the street, while inspecting a few pieces of ore.

[Roberta Obrien]

Titus Aetius, Outside Hela's Foly, Late Afternoon

Titus kept a straight face as the Nord reacted very angrily to his insults. It was all he could do to avoid smiling as the man proclaimed Ulfric Stormcloak as the true high king, loudly, in public. The Nord had dug his own grave. Just then the man stopped in mid-sentence . He realised the Nord was catching on. He had to do something, fast.
Giving the man an instense stare of hatred, Titus replied loudly, "His armies will do what? Oh, too afraid to make threats when you can't back them up? I'm sorry, but this isn't Windhelm, and Ulfrics thug aren't here to attack anybody who dosen't agree with them. Why don't you go back to roughing up Elves in Windhelm, like all the other bigots in Ulfrics rebellion. Oblivion take you, Ulfric, and all the other Stormcloak bastards!"
And with that, Titus spat on the ground to show his disgust, and walked back inside Hela's Foly. Seeing Danus was still there, He walked over to him, and sat down, and whispered to Danus,
"I have your rebel sympathiser. He's outside, and he just announced to all of Valton that Ulfric Stormcloak was the true high king. Is a personal confession and my word enough for you, or do you need more?"

[naome duncan]

Theseus, Valton Chapel, Late Afternoon

The Argonian began to inspect the new stranger when Theseus began to notice the Imperial was staring at him. Most likely sizing him up in case of a fight. The Redguard had an
inward sigh of frustration. If what Itan Ru said was true, than he would be useless in a fight for some time.

The Imperial shifted his line of sight when Theseus returned the gaze. The Redguard had seen what an untreated case of Rockjoint does to a man, and it isn't pretty. He remembered
a man who lived in the Warrens back when he was just a boy. The unfortunate urchin had slowly hardened up until he couldn't move. One day he was found dead. His lungs had just
about turned to stone is what the locals had said

The Argonain was still rummaging through his supplies and a somewhat awkward silence had befallen the new chapel. Theseus decided to break it with some small talk.

"Do you have a name, stranger?"

[Rich O'Brien]

Fiona's Tower, late afternoon
Leandra

Whatever Jormaw chose to do with the Clannfear was rather beyond the mercenary, given her state at the time - ignoring the fact the battle was not yet over (an oversight she would chastise herself for, but maybe sometime later, as the compromise between her professional pride and peculiar nature went), she had drifted off to somewhere else entirely. Her eyes looking up at the ceiling, narrowing now and then and her left one twitching once or twice, she was trying to recall whether the Jarl had said anything useful to her - and if not, to dream up a suitable begining to her search.

Preferably without setting off more traps, but that's probably unavoidable given this is a mage's tower. The Nibenese frowned slightly, distantly registering her Argonian companion's words - something about the Deadlands and Dagon. What, actual travel into the planes? No no, sounds highly unlikely at best... Why am I thinking about the random stranger's words again?

Dismiss it though she may have, however, that did not stop her from mumbling under her nose as she headed inside the mysteriously missing court-mage's residence. "Physical trapping in the Deadlands would involve direct travel through portals as seen on an abnormal scale during the Oblivion Crisis and exemplified by the Niben Bay incident... A trap for her mind is rather more likely if Daedra are determined to be involved, however can I trust the Martin barrier to rule out any possibility of smaller windows? There was at least a single example of a loophole in the new order... No no, might still be possible..."

"But if that were to be the case, then it would almost certainly mean marked interest of a Daedric Prince, and then of course things would get interesting..." Catching herself in the act and stopping before she could start pacing around the room in an overly wizard-like manner, Leandra decided instead to focus on something useful for once. She glanced around the room, looking for any more obvious areas of interest, potential clues - anything that would save her a lengthy process of tapping everything in reach and checking it for any traces of residual arcane energy, be it traps or signs of recent use.

The interior of the tower seemed normal enough, to her anyway. It had all the hallmark signs of a mage's home - from the chaotic order of objects, books and tools strewn about in the heat of thought or ritual, down to various devices whose purpose would be hard to discern even to an actual wizard. The big cauldron there in the middle is a bit much though, I mean stereotype reinforcement to such a degree does not an efficient mage make. Clearly someone's missed the last alchemist convention or a dozen.

While very much tempted to just go and prod everything she could to see if it exploded in her face or trapped her in some pocket dimension, she had to start somewhere. So, at a leisurely pace, the Daedra hunter set off around the room, stopping at the things most likely to give her some sort of an idea what was going on - or those that seemed most interesting.

Peeking inside the large cauldron that she'd written off yielded no interesting results, even when Leandra stuck her head in it, ignoring the fact her steaming shoulder seemed to dislike being upside down and let out a slightly larger cloud in protest. Several devices left on the floor seemed fragile. Best not touch it, or they'll make me pay for it once I find the mage to top it all off...

It was when she opened a barrow that looked oddly akin to a coffin that things got rather more interesting. Raising an eyebrow, the Nibenese procured from within what was undoubtedly a frozen heart, of a human no less. Arcanely frozen, as far as she could tell.

To pun or not to pun. Weighing the heart in her hand, she finally let it drop back into the container without making any jokes involving cold-heartedness. After a bit of sifting through the rest of the contents - that is to say, yet more hearts - she finally decided there was nothing inside. At least, nothing that would outweigh the risk of one of the hearts thawing out and starting to beat. You never know, with the mages up here. Obviously, leave them alone in a land where most people can't tell a thunderstorm from magic and they start hoarding shrunked heads that talk...

As Leandra turned around from the barrow, a pile of books on the mage's desk caught her eye, all together and closed save one. Journal or recent studies, maybe. Let's check, it could be spicy gossip.

What it was, however, wasn't spicy gossip. Well, apart from that one. Leandra smiled slightly, looking at the backs of the books piled together. All seemed to share the theme that they involved Molag Bal, and all save one dealt with vampires. The one that had made her smile was one of the now rather rarely remembered Sermons of Vivec - Sermon 14, to be more precise. Who needs corny romance novels when you have metaphorical god on god action.

The one that lay open on the table was also familiar - 'Immortal Blood' was still quite popular back home in Cyrodiil, as well as being something of a resource for those who might cross paths with a vampire, people like herself. This edition seemed to have the unusual extra of being smeared in a strange, grayish substance. Again Leandra raised an eyebrow, brushing some of the smudge away with her left hand's index finger - and, after a moment's thought, licking it.

"Hm, now I wish I had tried harder when it came to alchemy..." Frowning slightly, the Daedra hunter sighed. "It's a familiar taste, but can't quite place it. Wanna have a go, Scales? It's not so bad actually. Though maybe that's because I haven't had dinner today. Or breakfast."

OOC: Since I can't send you a PM, in case Jormaw has the prerequisite knowledge to recognize it, the substance is vampire dust.

[Kortknee Bell]

Jormaw, Fiona's Tower, Evening.

The argonian had only catched up to his new companion walkabout when he saw her stick her head in a medium sized cauldron.
'What an odd soft-skin this one is.' He sniggered at the thought that this woman reminded him of an old tribes hunter he knew.
'Pokes-At-Unknowns, hah. She used to get into all kinds of trouble. The time when we found her in the High Priestess's leaf patch..'
His thoughts were interrupted by a puff of steam that came from the nibenese's contraption, which bursted through the thin mist.

With his trail of thought gone, Jormaw decided to follow Leandra's movements again. First came the inspection of several preserved hearts,
then books, a cheeky smile afterwards. 'Whatever this soft-skin hopes to obtain from reading smut of the Three-Snakes madness, is useless.'

Looming over her form to get a good look at what her gaze was now dominating, he saw her check the inprint of tomes of vampiric knowledge.
'Immortal Blood? that book is a better read in Jel, the translations are almost hilarious.' The nibenese woman licked something attached to it.

Wisp, zip, glow, invisibility! the woman had disappeared. However, a voice had called out in what looked to be ignorance of general alchemy.
The lizard instead of trying the mixture himself, like a lab rat would, decidely poked her with a claw to judge whether it was or wasn't enchantment.
Texture was felt, some blubber of skin withdrawed in response. 'Definitely not enchantment,' his mind came to wonder with internal ponderment.
"Scales does not need to have 'a go,' you have already shown the effects and the definition: vampire dust, but smeared like such? interesting."

Presently a similarly scent could be felt across the room. "No doubt a battle was drawn here. Hostile negotiations I suspect of the volkihar."
He looked around the room to the now fading mist, questioning to himself whether it was an enchantment put down by such creatures or not.
'The clannfear could have been conjured easily by one of these barbaric whet-fangs. From that Molag Bal's place? I couldn't be exactly sure, hmph.'
Jormaw posed the question to the daedra hunter, "The clannfear.. would it owe it's allegiance to the Molag Bal? do you think?"

His knowledge of this was prior obtained by a young court wizard whom proclaimed the archein was a daedroth. A naive mistake in all earnest.
After a little confrontation, some guard intervention, a little talk down by his patron, the mage gave way to explain his reasoning for this accusation.
But it all came down to a failure of a banishment spell. The only benefit to the argument would have been the information absorbingly achieved.

OOC: I cleared my notifications, I'll double check my settings- but you should be able to send me a PM by now, PFA.

[yessenia hermosillo]

Itan-Ru, Valton Chapel, Late Afternoon

After several seconds of rummaging around in his bag, Itan-Ru had finally found what he had been searching for. From within he pulled some thick bandages, a green bottle, and a brown one containing, oddly enough, a small amount of a golden fluid that any nord would recognize as mead. He grinned to himself as he set to work, taking all three items to a table near where Theseus was sitting. He could have cured it magically, but curing a disease was a tricky spell; it was prone to complications when the disease had had time to have a serious effect, especially with one as virulent as Rockjoint. Itan-Ru sought to minimize risk, so he had decided that a non-magical approach would be best

He set the bandages down on the table and uncorked the mead, allowing it's honeyed scent to spread into the room. He poured a small amount of the mead onto the bandage, allowing it to soak into the center of it, staining the white cloth a yellowish gold. So strange that something as common as mead can help prevent the spread of disease, he thought to himself as the mead soaked into the cloth and he re-corked the bottle, he uncorked the green bottle, pouring about a half inch of the faintly blue-tinged fluid into a small cup on the table. He handed the green bottle to the Imperial, readied the cup in one hand and the mead-sterilized bandage in the other. He cleared his throat quietly and said,

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but..." he turned to Roymund, "Here's how this is going to work. You can go ahead and drink that, about half ought to do it, and when you're ready, we'll get to the next step. So... bottoms up!" he finished with a slight smile.